Harry's Last Letter
by WhiteTwitch
Summary: Hary left Hermione one last letter. HHr. Twoshot
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters are J.K Rowling's.

A/N: This idea just popped into my head one day, and it seemed almost as if it wrote itself as I went along.

* * *

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know when you read this, you'll be upset, and I'll be eternally sorry for whatever pain this will cause you._

_About one year ago Remus found the reason why Voldemort wouldn't die, not even after we had destroyed all of the Horcruces. The reason was me, Mione. I'm a Horcrux. That's why he didn't kill me when I finally confronted him at the end of seventh year- he had already discovered it, even if we hadn't._

_Try to understand, Mione, I couldn't let everyone suffer because of me. Not anymore. I've gone to face him, and this time I won't be able to come out alive._

_I'm so sorry, Mione, please, please, forgive me._

_My love for you will live on forever, Mione, death can't stop it. And wherever I end up, I'll watch over you, and I'll wait for you. I'd wait forever for you, Mione._

_Please Mione, be happy. Find someone to love you as I have. I'm not telling you to forget me, I know you wouldn't do that- just, please, know that that's what I want. Just your happiness._

_I'll be yours now and forever,_

Harry

_No, no not Harry, not Harry, not Harry. Harry no Harry, no PLEASE! How- no. Harry, please._

Her mind was in a jumble, and all she could focus on was that Harry was gone- he was- gone.

"No," she sobbed.

Stupid noble Harry!

_Why? Oh God why?_

Harry was all that was left of her life- Ron was dead, her parents killed by Death Eaters. And now Harry.

_Why him? Why is it always HIM?_

She fell to her knees, head bowed into her cradling arms, and one hand still grasping the letter. All she had to live for was gone.

Forever.

_NOOOO!!_

"AHHHHHHHHHHH," she screamed.

But there was nobody home to hear her.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Borrowing the characters.

A/N: Later on...

* * *

Hermione had lay on the shag carpet, sobbing, for about two hours before an Order member had come to tell her the news. 

Charlie, who was the aforementioned Order member, had tears running down his cheeks even as he stepped into the Potters' home. He had come to tell Hermione. He had to.

And then he saw Hermione on the ground, curled up in the fetal position. She knew, then. He wondered who had told her the news. He wondered how they could have left her when she was obviously wrecked.

He approached the brown-haired form slowly, weighted down by the news that he had come to tell her.

Charlie looked walked until he was looking down on Hermione. He could see her face, contorted in grief, her arms held to her face as if to shield her from the world.

Then, feeling as if he was watching someone else, he gathered her unresisting form into his arms and strode over to the worn brown couch. He sat down and arranged Hermione so that she was sitting sideways on his lap, her head against his chest.

And then he sobbed. He sobbed for ten minutes until he was unaware of his surroundings, only of his grief. And then slowly, but surely, he felt arms wrap around him, and he looked down to see that they were Hermione's arms, to see Hermione still crying a fresh set of tears, her cheek against his soft green T-shirt.

* * *

Hermione felt as if she was in a coma. She was unaware of the high, keening sound coming out of her mouth, and fell to her side, curled up. 

She was unaware of everything until two hours later when she vaguely felt the sensation of being carried, then being cradled against someone.

_Harry?_

Her mind was jumbled, and that alone was the name, the thought, that had been on her mind for the past few hours.

_Harry's dead._

The thought sent a fresh set of tears cascading down her cheeks.

And then she heard more sobbing, and it took a while to realize that it wasn't her. She looked up, and distantly recognized Charlie Weasley. She wasn't alone anymore.

She barely realized it as her arms circled his waist.

* * *

Charlie had lost faith in people, in everyone but Harry, who had been a constant in his life since Ron, Fred, and his mum had died in a Death Eater attack. Harry had shared in his grief, and in those last two years became a brother to him. 

So when he had found out that Harry had died defeating Voldemort, he cursed all the rejoicing people, because he had lost another piece of his heart.

Then he had stumbled off to tell Hermione, because really, who else would if not him? When he had found her, they ended up sobbing for the rest of the day on the couch, sharing in each other's grief.

About a week later he had moved in with her, because he was there everyday anyway, helping her pack Harry's personal effects.

And it was a good thing he had moved in, because if he hadn't, Hermione probably wouldn't have eaten or taken care of herself in any way, and likewise. Helping her helped him, and it was true for the opposite. A symbiotic relationship.

And so he was there to persuade her to go to the Healers when he noticed how she was getting sick every day.

* * *

It had been three months. Three months since Harry had gone off to fight Voldemort, three months since her beloved husband had died. Three months of vomiting and continuously gaining wait despite the fact that she definitely hadn't been eating as well as she used to. 

And then today Charlie, who had been living with her, had made her call a Healer's office to see why she had been vomiting so much.

Usually getting an appointment would have taken at least a week, but as soon as she mentioned her name, they had given her an appointment that day.

* * *

Hermione walked out of the office in shock. She kept glancing down at her stomach, which had been growing rapidly, though she hadn't noticed. How could she, when she was still grieving for Harry? 

But still. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant.

It felt so unreal, yet she knew it to be the truth. She was four months pregnant.

And then she smiled, her mouth trembling.

_Harry's child._

* * *

A/N: Review? 


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